The Writing's on the Wall
by Rose-SK
Summary: Sitting on a chair next to Dean's hospital bed, Castiel realized that he did not regret rebelling.


Sitting on a chair next to Dean's hospital bed, Castiel realized that he did not regret rebelling. Not because it gave him so kind of personal satisfaction or the feeling of being stronger and more ambitious than his siblings… Castiel had never been interested in power. He had always been the quietest of his siblings, never voicing out his displeasure or incredulity at his Father's choices, never questioning his elder brothers' choices, looking up at anyone ready to teach him something about the creation they were the guardians of. Castiel had always been a quick learner, a witty student and a reckless fighter. He did what he had to do, what he was told to do, without questions.

And this is why the other angels liked him. He was their subordinate, he lived to please his family, his superiors. Castiel was the perfect sheep.

And the day he had begun to realize this, the day he had begun questioning the angels' and his Father's ways was when he started putting the pieces of Dean Winchester's soul back together. The moment he started mending this seemingly meaningless human being, Michael's vessel, Michael's human… that was the moment when Castiel fell in love for the first time. Not understanding the feelings at first, he had not acted upon them, not until Dean's soul had reciprocated his feelings. Their love story had been brief, however, for when Dean's soul returned to its rightful body, the archangels had made sure that the human wouldn't remember anything of his love for Castiel. _We can't afford this human being disrupted or confused, Castiel. He is Michael's vessel. He has a destiny._ At that precise moment, Castiel had begun losing faith in his siblings.

And he had rebelled.

He had rebelled and everything had made sense. He had to protect Dean and Sam, he had to show them the right path, to guide them through the apocalypse. However, Castiel had underestimated Dean's stubbornness and unconditional will to die for the people he loved. Their first meeting had broken Castiel's heart. He didn't understand how Dean could have forgotten what they had shared. It hadn't taken him long to put the pieces together: this amnesia must have a providential origin. His heart felt nothing more but loath and hatred towards his brothers, towards Michael and Raphael, who had been in favour of this idea. They had punished him for falling in love with a human being.

Dean stabbing him in the heart had come as a small surprise, but as soon as Castiel had guessed his brothers' scheme, he decided not to judge his human. He would give him time, as much time as he needed, and he would help him remember. And he believed that he had done well so far. Dean and he were what humans would refer to as "close friends", but that was still far away from what Castiel wanted. Even the simple human feeling of love wouldn't be enough, it would never be the same. There was no equivalent to the communion of two souls and in his human form, Dean would forever be limited.

But even then, Castiel would be happy to simply feel Dean's love. And he would do anything to save his human, even when Dean made mistakes or made the wrong decisions: because humans were allowed to be imperfect and nobody would judge them, except their own kind. But Castiel knew that making mistakes was part of the human nature and that a perfect human would go against the very idea of creation itself. Because the only omnipresent being on Earth and in space was his Father. God. Nobody would ever be perfect, unless they became God.

Castiel had forgotten how often he had told Dean that his imperfection was no flaw. Even now, seeing his love lie on this medical bed, thin white sheets covering his recovering body, eyes closed and face covered with a horrible plastic mask filling Dean's lungs with oxygen, Castiel couldn't help but think how perfect Dean was in his eyes. The doctors said he was going to make it. And that was all Castiel needed to know. He would stand watch until Dean woke up. He wanted to be the first person the older Winchester saw when he woke.

Castiel recalled a conversation he had had with Dean only days before the werewolf attack in Vermont. He remembered Dean's tears of despair, he remembered appearing quietly hearing Dean pray. The empty parking lot of the motel they stayed in was not where he had expected to find Dean, but that hadn't mattered to Castiel. Curious, he had listened to Dean.

" _Father, I know I'm not what you can call a good human being"_

Then, Castiel's heart had already ached for this fragile human being trying so hard to keep up a mask in front of other people, especially in front of his brother. But trying so hard to be strong, Dean had forgotten that he, too, had the right to cry sometimes.

" _But I am not completely bad, I'm not a demon, deep down I'm just… I don't even know. I'm certainly not all bad. I have a good heart. I help people! I save them! All I want is recognition, a thank you, from whomever. I have lost so many people I loved… is that what I get for saving your creation?"_

Castiel had felt the same. He understood Dean. He understood what the little frightened boy was telling his Father. He knew how Dean felt, he knew because Castiel felt the same. Uncomprehending. Incredulous. Lost. The elder Winchester had neglected his own feelings for too long. Now was the time to end his insecurities.

" _Why punish me for doing the right thing, you son of a bitch?"_

Castiel felt like he needed to reassure Dean with words now, something he hadn't done at the time, only responding his prayers by placing his hand over Dean's right shoulder, where he still bore the scar from when Castiel had gripped him tight and raised him from perdition, letting his grace flow through Dean and fill him with warmth. At the same time, he had hoped that this intimate touch would revive some of Dean's feelings.

It hadn't.

"I understand you, Dean", Castiel whispered in his deep voice, eyes locked onto Dean's sleeping form, watchful, guarding, "I understand all of it, believe me. But you have to know that you are beautiful in your own way, that all your characteristics you believe to be flaws are what defines you as an individual. And you are perfect in your own way, because my Father makes no mistakes, as he incorporates perfection itself. Once you'll understand this, you'll be able to properly heal"

Dean didn't answer, still fast asleep. Castiel didn't mind, he knew that Dean's brain would register this anyway, because the human body in its complexity achieved deeds the angel thought to be absolutely remarkable. Dean would subconsciously remember his words.

And one day, maybe, he would understand. One day, he might remember. And Castiel was ready to wait and he would not give up fighting. He would stand by his human and guide him on the way to happiness. Because that's the reason why Castiel had initially been sent to retrieve him from hell, to guide him on the way to Armageddon. That's what his Father had in stock for him.

Those were the writings on the wall of destiny.


End file.
